The Assassination of Severus Snape
by HappyAuriga
Summary: Severus Snape has made many enemies in his life.


The Assassination of Severus Snape

"I hate him! What a jerk!"

"One of these days I'm going to curse his nose off!"

"Why stop with the git's nose? I'd love to blow his whole head up!"

"Boys!" At least Granger had the decency to put an end to the hostile cant. "You are talking about a Hogwarts teacher!"

"What?" asked the Weasley boy. "The bloody chump insults you whenever he can! Don't tell me you wouldn't like to throttle him."

"He's a teacher," replied the girl. "He deserves better. Poison, I suggest."

Snape had heard enough. He swooped around the corner, robes billowing and his most dangerous expression in place. "Detention! 5pm in the Quidditch locker rooms. Bring your tooth brushes."

The group of sixth year Gryffindors looked at him in horror but the wizard didn't linger to bask in their fear. He had things to prepare.

-x-

At a quarter to five, the hapless Gryffindors – the Golden Trio, Finnegan, Thomas, Longbottom, Patil and Brown – gathered in the Entrance Hall. The first billows of flavours came from the Great Hall. The house elves must be as good as ready to serve dinner. Trust Snape to time their detention to make sure they knew what they were going to miss.

Hermione Granger handed out purple tooth brushes she had transfigured from pieces of garbage she had found lying around in the common room.

"Remember," said Harry Potter, "whatever he asks us to do, stay together in pairs. Don't let the mean git catch you alone."

"He wouldn't hurt us!" interfered Granger.

"He caught us fantasizing about killing him," replied Ron Weasley. "And we're talking about Snape."

The others looked frightened and most of them nodded in agreement.

"Let's go," suggested Potter. "It wouldn't do to be late."

"You're right," muttered Finnegan. "Don't give the git an excuse to be even harder on us."

-x-

At 5pm sharp, Harry Potter knocked on the door of the Quidditch locker room on the left of the aisle leading to the pitch. When no answer came, he tried the right door. Again, his knock was left unanswered.

Careful, the boy opened the door. "Professor Snape?" he asked cautiously. The room was dark and silent. With a shrug, Potter closed the door and returned to the left one.

"Professor Snape?" In this room, the light was on, so the boy stepped inside and the other Gryffindors followed him. As soon as the last student, Longbottom, had crossed the threshold, the door closed with a bang. The round-faced boy whirled around and tried to open the door unsuccessfully. "We are trapped," he pointed out the obvious.

"Snape must be in the showers," said Potter.

Weasley giggled nervously.

"What?" the golden hero hissed at him.

"Sorry," muttered the redhead. "I thought you were joking. You know… Snape in a shower…" He rolled his eyes. "Forget it."

Potter ignored him and strode around the corner to look for the professor in the back part of the room.

"Oh, my God!" Potter turned on his heel, ready to take flight, but collided with his friend painfully. "Aaaargh!"

Instead of making room for the two boys, the rest of the group came closer to see what had scared the most reckless of Gryffindors. The girls screamed and two seconds later the whole group was back by the door.

"Great," hissed Potter at Weasley. "You broke my glasses."

"Sorry," muttered the boy. "But honestly, don't you think we have more pressing problems?"

"We need all our wits," Granger said impatiently. "We can't afford to have Harry incapacitated. Occulus reparo!"

"What shall we do?" cried Lavender Brown. "We need help!"

"In case you didn't notice," snapped Seamus Finnegan, "the door is locked."

"They will think we did it!" Parvati Patil was close to panic. "We will be expelled!"

"We need to investigate ourselves," said Potter. The others calmed down a bit. "When we managed to open the door, we have to be able to inform Dumbledore of what happened."

"Don't you think Dumbledore will be able to find out himself?"

"Important evidence could fade away with time," said Potter. Granger agreed. Since the cleverest and the natural leader of the group were of one mind, nobody contradicted.

Careful not to step on anything important, the group returned to what had scared them before.

Severus Snape was lying in a puddle of blood. His robes were torn in places and wet. His hair was white – or rather an oily yellow – and where his nose should have been, there was a bloody hole. The hilt of a knife rose up from his chest and an open button revealed a noose of rope under his collar. A trail of blood led into the showers.

"What happened to him?" asked Dean Thomas. "It looks as if he has met a whole army of murderers."

"Does it surprise you? Somebody with Snape's temper must have annoyed hundreds of people." Weasley shrugged.

Parvati Patil shook her head. "True," she admitted, "but badly enough to make them want to kill him? I don't think so."

"We fantasized about killing him only this morning," Granger reminded him. "That's why we are here."

"Whatever," said Finnegan. "We must find out who did it, and if there's more than one murderer, the better. It's easier to find two than find one, isn't it?"

The others looked doubtful but said nothing.

"Let's see what we have," said Granger. She turned her toothbrush into a magnifying glass. "Ew! Somebody cursed his nose off!"

"And you needed that glass to find that out?" snapped Lavender Brown.

"We need to approach the problem logically," said Potter. "Who could come close enough to Snape to kill him?"

"The Slytherins or the teachers," said Thomas. The others nodded.

"I suspect Malfoy did it in the showers with a muggle gun." Longbottom looked at the rest of the group defyingly.

"Where do you get that idea from?" asked Potter. "I see a curse wound, a knife, a rope and, given his white hair, there may be some kind of poison. I don't see any evidence of him having been shot."

"The wound is probably in his back," insisted Longbottom. "Wouldn't it be just like Malfoy to hide his crime and lay out red herrings?"

"You take that knife in Snape's chest for a red herring?" cried Finnegan. "Wow!"

"Stop it, boys," ordered Granger. "Neville has a point. We need to see Snape's back. Turn him around."

The boys looked reluctant but they were Gryffindors. Together, they turned the potions master far enough that the girls could see his back. There was a huge bullet wound in the man's back. Granger used the toothbrushes Patil and Brown had brought to make parchment and a quill. Diligently, she noted down the wounds and traces she found on the potions master's body.

"You may have a point with the showers, too," she said once they had noted down everything. "We should follow the traces." She pointed at the smears of blood on the tiled floor.

It was agreed that Potter was the bravest and that he should lead the way. The boy drew his wand and carefully opened the door to the showers. The water was running in one of the stalls and the air was heavy with steam. It smelled of lily of the valley shower gel.

There was movement on the floor and the boy jumped back with a shriek.

"Harry!" laughed Granger. "It's only a kitten!"

"What is a kitten doing at the scene of crime?" asked Patil. She went after the small beast. "Oh, look! It's cute!" She picked the small white cat up, only to drop it a moment later. "Its paws are full of blood!"

"It's not the kitten's fault," said Potter. He pushed Patil aside and picked the kitten up. A quick spell took care of the bloody paws.

"Harry, you can't destroy evidence!" cried Granger.

"Do you want the cat to walk around and leave bloody footprints everywhere?" Potter scratched the cat's fluffy ears.

"Of course not!" Granger huffed.

Finnegan volunteered to turn off the shower. Now that the door was open and no mountain troll or other dangerous creature had revealed itself, there was no need to send the house hero. Granger dissolved the steam with a spell.

The Gryffindors worked their way through the showers, taking in every detail.

"Whatever evidence there was," cried Patil, "it has been washed away! Oh, they will think it was us! We'll end up in Azkaban!"

"Dumbledore won't allow it," Potter said confidently.

"He will protect you," admitted Dean Thomas, "but for the rest of us it's a different thing!"

"Stop it!" cried Granger. "We have some questions which need to be answered!"

"Which ones apart from 'Who did it?'?" asked Weasley.

"First of all," the girl ticked them off on her fingers. "Who knew that he was going to be here? The Quidditch locker room is not where he's usually to be found."

"Did you see anybody overhear him give us detention?" added Potter.

"We didn't even notice the slimy git sneak up on us," Patil reminded them.

"Assuming there was nobody," Granger continued, "who would catch him here by chance?"

"Somebody who was here for Quidditch," said Finnegan.

"I told you it was Malfoy!" cried Longbottom. "He was here to practice and when he came back to the showers, Snape was there."

Weasley snorted. "And he carried a muggle gun just in case."

"Maybe the poison was the true weapon and the gunshot is just a red herring," suggested Lavender Brown.

Granger rolled her eyes. "Maybe he committed suicide."

"Hang on!" cried Thomas. "Why not? He realised that he is a greasy git and nobody likes him and – bang! – did it!"

"Snape didn't carry a gun any more than Malfoy did," Potter shook his head.

"Stop thinking like a muggle," said Weasley. "He carried a wand. That's all he'd need."

"And how," Granger asked impatiently, "did he kill himself in multiple ways? It would be difficult to curse one's nose off after you had shot yourself. In the back, I might add."

"This whole thing doesn't make sense!" Potter stroked the kitten he was still holding.

"You evil monster!" Granger pointed her wand at the boy.

Potter jumped back. "I didn't do a thing! Why are you insulting me?"

"Not you, silly!" Granger advanced on him. "He!" She pointed her wand at the now spitting kitten. "He's an animagus!"

"What are you talking about!" cried Potter.

"Are you suggesting that this cute kitty is his slimyness?" panted Dean Thomas.

"Reveal yourself, Professor," cried Granger, "or I shall hex this cat's tail off!"

Potter fell on his behind when he suddenly had his arms full of potions master. "You wouldn't dare!" the man roared at Granger. Both, teacher and boy, scrambled to their feet hastily.

"I would," the girl stood her ground. "And now open that door or I'll still use that hex!"

"30 points from Gryffindor for threatening a teacher!" roared Snape.

"What will you get for faking a crime? A year in Azkaban? More?" Granger smirked at the man.

"Hang on!" cried Weasley. "If the kitten is Snape then who is that?" He pointed at the body on the floor.

Snape waved his wand at it lazily and the corpse turned into a piece of soap.

"There are better uses for soap, you know," said Finnegan. Snape glared daggers at him.

"Give us our points back!" demanded Granger.

"I will do no such thing!" snarled Snape. "You deserve the loss of points for the way you talked about me this morning. And now out with you! Out!"

Granger looked as if she was going to talk back but Potter stopped her. "I'm sure we can use the knowledge about his animagus form to get more than 30 points. I'm sure Dumbledore alone will give us plenty for finding out."

"True," said the girl. "Let's go back to the castle. If we hurry, we even may catch dessert."

"Mmh," purred Longbottom. "I hope they have strawberry tarts."

"I'd rather have treacle tart," said Potter.

"Chocolate!" cried Brown. "I want chocolate cake."

The Gryffindors discussed cakes all the way up to the castle.

Snape turned to Dumbledore who had given up his disguise as a bumblebee only after the children had left. "Do you think they learned anything?"

"I hope so, my boy," smiled the older wizard. "Let's go up to dinner. I know from a save source that there, indeed, are strawberry tarts today."

Side by side, the old wizard and his younger colleague walked up to the school. Halfway to the castle the younger wizard turned to his superior. "You won't award them points for finding out about my animagus form, will you?"

The only answer he got was a chuckle.

The End.


End file.
